


On Either Side

by Lumelle



Series: Three's Company (In Bed) [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Brother/Brother Incest, Dwarf/Elf Relationship(s), F/M, Fíli Feels, Incest, M/M, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 19:13:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5978089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumelle/pseuds/Lumelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the battle, Fíli is watching Kíli sleep. He's not the only one interested in Kíli's condition, of course, which leads to a rather important conversation.</p>
<p>Kïli has always had a big heart. Perhaps, even, big enough for two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Either Side

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JungleJelly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JungleJelly/gifts).



> Birthday fic for [JungleJelly](http://archiveofourown.org/users/JungleJelly). Happy birthday!
> 
> **Please note** that this fic contains references to a future polyamorous relationship as well as a current incestuous relationship between brothers. The incestuous relationship is consensual and accepted in their community as an ordinary, non-taboo relationship for cultural reasons. Please read accordingly.

Kíli was asleep.

Fíli still felt an icy fear grip his heart every time he glanced at his brother, but it was getting easier now. Out in the field, when he had first found Kíli lying among the fallen he had been terrified, too frozen with his fear to even call out. Bofur had been the one to call for the rest and determine that he was not, in fact, dead, Dori the one to bear Kíli to the healers. All Fíli had been able to do was stare and fear the end of all light in the world.

It didn't matter to him whether the sun would dawn again, not if Kíli didn't smile with it.

Right now Kíli was asleep, though, not unconscious, had been seen by the healers and bandaged up as he required. He had been badly wounded, might never walk without a limp again if he was unlucky, but he was alive and breathing and right now that was all Fíli cared about. He'd hardly even paused to get his own wounds tended, had only allowed Óin to fuss over him once Kíli had been treated. His own wounds were minor, few would even scar, though a couple of them did warrant the use of a needle and thread. Once he'd been stitched together, though, and assured that Thorin was alive and well enough that nobody expected him to make any decisions, he'd sat down next to his brother to watch Kíli sleep.

It was rare, seeing Kíli so completely at rest, and that scared him a little bit. Even at night Kíli was rarely still, would mumble or toss and turn, more often than not ending up half on top of Fíli by morning no matter how they laid themselves down at night. It had been a cause of much teasing on the road, others making lewd comments about what they might have gotten up to in the night, as though they were going to risk getting caught by whoever was on watch and getting scolded by Thorin for not getting proper rest. Even Bilbo had started smirking about it at some point, once he had been assured that there was no offence at insinuating such things about brothers among dwarves. You loved who you loved, as Mahal had made you, and any who dared to judge that could take up their protest with the Maker himself.

Fíli could not imagine a world where he was not allowed to love Kíli. He might as well have been judged for breathing, so natural it was to look at the messy dark hair and the sleeping face and feel his heart fill with love.

There was some commotion at the door of the small tent, and he looked up, seeing a guard stepping in front of the doorway. Behind the stocky dwarf, one of Dáin's finest still standing, he saw the tall, lean figure of a red-haired elf.

He recognised her, of course. How could he not, when Kíli had taken such an interest in her? Fíli had listened to their conversations during the weeks they had spent in Mirkwood, had heard the elf go from sharp, curt replies to actual answers and interest in what Kíli had to say. He'd seen her in Laketown, too, had witnessed the miracle of her healing, had seen his brother return from the gates of the Halls under her hands. For that, he owed her more than he could ever repay.

"Let her in," he called out, almost startling himself with how rough his voice sounded. He'd done a lot of yelling during the battle, to be sure, war cries and threats and calls to his allies, had shouted himself hoarse calling Kíli's name as the battle died down into the stench of blood and ashes. The guard heard him well enough, though, and after a glance at him for confirmation, stepped aside to allow her in.

"Thank you." The elf stood tall in the small dwarven tent, her head almost hitting the ceiling of what Fíli had considered a nice and spacious place. Not that there was much in the way of obstacles, anyway. Kíli's resting place consisted of a bedroll spread over a mat to keep it apart from cold ground, and aside from another such contraption that Fíli was seated on there was little in the way of furnishings. The small brazier seemed like an unnecessary luxury, casting what little light and warmth it could around the tent, but Fíli supposed Dáin's soldiers felt it necessary for the tent of princes. "You are… Fíli, right?"

"That's me." He nodded, eyeing her. She seemed weary from the battle, in a way he hadn't been sure elves even could, still bearing her weapons but her hands empty, offering no threat. Her clothes were so smeared with dirt and blood he might not have guessed their true colour in the flickering light. "And you are Tauriel, right?" Oh, how sweet that name had sounded on Kíli's tongue, for all that Fíli himself could find no such taste to it.

"I am." She nodded, curt and efficient, the gesture of a soldier. She was a guard, after all. "He… how is Kíli?"

"Asleep. They've cleaned and stitched up his wounds, and it'll be a while before he's recovered, but for now he's in no danger." And oh, how Fíli thanked all the Valar for that. He could not have stood it if his brother had fallen and left him standing. "I'd rather say you seem to be in worse shape than he is, at the moment."

"I'm fine. The blood is not mine." As Fíli lifted his eyebrows, she sighed. "Well. Most of it is not mine."

"Slightly better, but still worrisome." Fíli shook his head. "I'll call the healers to take a look, if it's all the same to you. I've seen it confirmed far too often today that you elves are not invulnerable, and I would imagine tending your own wounds is hardly the easiest task. Wouldn't want Kíli waking up to find that you bled out at the foot of his bed, after all."

"There is no need for that, I assure you."

"Is there not? You hardly look like anyone has seen to you yet. Did you not stop by the elven camps before coming here?"

She flinched, almost imperceptibly, but Kíli was not the only one with sharp eyes. "I am… not welcome there."

Fíli frowned. "You're not?"

"I was banished." She appeared calm as she spoke, voice blank and devoid of any sorrow or rage he might have expected, yet her eyes were troubled for the moment Fíli caught them. "I fled the palace when my king ordered the borders shut. For that transgression, he told me not to return."

"Really, now." Fíli nodded slowly. "And why did you leave, then?"

"I — I needed to deliver a warning." Tauriel glanced at Kíli, her calm expression wavering. "And — we captured one of the orcs. He said the young one would die from the poison."

"That's why you showed up." That made sense, as much as the thought of an elf helping a dwarf made much sense at all. Fíli wasn't sure if it had even been mentioned in the night, could remember nothing but glowing light and Kíli's strength returning and then their escape from the burning ruins of Laketown. "It was true enough. Without you, I fear my brother would have been lost."

"I could not allow it." Tauriel pinched her lips into a thin line, taking a halting step closer. The way she held her arm was off, Fíli noticed, the battle still strong enough at the back of his mind that he couldn't help picking up on the signs of weakness, open spots to strike. "He — you are certain he will recover?"

"So the healers tell me." Fíli made up his mind, pushing himself to his feet. He was tired, too, had just contemplated sleep if his worry for Kíli might allow it, but this was more important right now. "Sit down. I'll order those healers here."

"I do not require —"

"I told you to sit down." His commanding voice wasn't quite as impressive as Thorin's, certainly not when he was so tired and hoarse, and he hardly made an intimidating figure, standing so much shorter than her and weary from the battle, but Tauriel was either surprised or convinced enough that she did indeed fold herself down to sit on the spot Fíli had vacated. Fíli himself crossed over to the door, telling the guard outside to fetch a healer.

Óin arrived quickly, looking worried as he did, but relaxed when he heard his patient was neither of the princes. It was a good thing he'd been the one to arrive; he hardly even blinked as Fíli asked him to tend to Tauriel's wounds, setting to work at once. Tauriel seemed more compliant now, not hesitating about removing her clothes when asked to give Óin access to her wounds, unashamed of her body even as Óin started cleaning and dressing a rather ugly-looking wound across her ribs. Even so, Fíli closed the door flap of the tent and then focused his gaze on Kíli's sleeping form. He wasn't quite conscious enough of her modesty to leave outright, but he could at least be courteous enough not to stare.

It was almost entirely quiet until Óin finished his ministrations, giving Tauriel strict orders to take care of her wounds or else before clambering back out of the tent. Fíli finally looked up as he heard Tauriel putting her clothes back on.

"I'd be careful if I were you," he said, trying to offer some weak humour. "He's been known to tie people down if he thinks they might not get enough rest otherwise."

"I do not doubt that." Tauriel inspected him with unreadable eyes. "You love him." She hardly meant Óin.

"Since I first saw him in his cradle." Fíli nodded. "Some say we dwarves are born with our hearts split apart, and must find the One who fills our heart or else we will not love at all. I was lucky enough to find him when I was but five, and have never doubted myself."

"And… does he love you?"

"He tells me so." Kíli looked almost peaceful now, for all that he had seemed in terrible pain the few moments he had awoken. "It's my clasp he wears in his hair, and he has promised I may put my braid there as soon as we have the peace for ceremonies. I may be my uncle's heir, but he'll be the one to stand beside me when that time comes."

"What were his words to me, then?" She sounded almost fragile, now, in a way Fíli might not have thought possible of such an immortal creature. "Fevered dreams, or outright lies?"

"Neither. Kíli may be mischievous, but he's not capable of such cruelty." And cruelty it would have been, promising such a bright heart to anyone without meaning it. "He gave you our mother's rune stone. That's not something he would gift to anyone without meaning it."

"You just said you dwarves may only love one."

"Aye, that's what they say. If there's anyone with a heart big enough to fit two others, though, I'd wager that to be Kíli." Fíli shrugged. "I've heard the way he spoke with you in the dungeons and in Laketown, heard the way he speaks of you when you are not there. I don't think he lied or spoke in jest. If he says he loves you, then love you he does. And if he asked you if you might love him, it was because he truly wishes to know."

"What would it matter either way, though?" Tauriel looked at Kíli now, and for once the elven detachment was broken, confusion and yearning battling in her expression. "You said you already have a claim on him. Even if he loved me, you would hardly let him go."

"I'm a dwarf. I'm jealous by nature and possessive in my love. Even so, I know the difference between something owned and something borrowed, and I know Kíli's heart is mine only because he has chosen to give it to me."

"What do you mean?" Now, Fíli fancied he could hear a hint of hope in her voice.

Fíli might have been young, but he was not foolish, nor unaware of danger. He'd known the danger of dragons for all that he had never felt the terror of dragonfire before, had realised the risks of the journey, and yet he had answered his uncle's call without hesitation. Now, though, it took him a moment to speak, even though he had already made up his mind. "I mean that I can share if you can." Anything for the sake of Kíli's smile.

"You… truly?" Tauriel's eyes widened as she turned to look at Fíli. "You'd be willing to do that?"

"Aye, if Kíli's willing to be shared, but somehow I don't think that will be a problem. Fair warning, though," Fíli said, managing a faint grin. "We've shared a room since Kíli was weaned, and a bed almost as long." Though their mother had been very clear on what was and was not allowed in said bed until Kíli was old enough to start courting. "I don't expect that to change any time soon, so be aware that share means share. If you want a part in Kíli's life, you'll also be part of mine, and vice versa."

"I think I can manage that." Tauriel echoed his own tired smile. "But I suppose we should not be talking about this without him, hmm? After all, it seems his opinion is the one that decides."

"Indeed. We all need rest, I think. I'll call for someone to bring you some bedding, there's just barely enough room for a third." Fíli went back to the door before Tauriel could protest, giving the guard instructions. Another bed, as one could be found, and enough food in the morning for three, assuming Kíli awoke by then.

It was still slightly strange, having everyone jump at his every wish. Back in Ered Luin he'd hardly been the centre of much attention, and on the road Kíli and he had been teased and taunted as some of the youngest. Yet all of Dáin's people seemed to be quite happy to treat him as a prince, in a way he never had been for all of Thorin's stories and teachings.

He supposed it was time to get used to it. This would certainly be different now.

Tauriel must have been truly exhausted, since she made no actual protest at Fíli's insistence that she sleep. They set down the bedrolls on either side of Kíli, both close enough to reach out to touch him, and Fíli fell asleep almost as soon as he lay down, aching and weary after the long, long day.

When he woke the fire had just been freshly tended and there was food set on a large plate near their beds, bread and cheese and other cold things that he more or less inhaled his one third of. Kíli was still asleep, while Tauriel lay with her eyes open yet failed to react when Fíli waved his hand before her eyes. Elves. They couldn't even sleep without making things weird.

After some hesitation, and then deciding there was probably no safer company he could trust his brother into at the moment, Fíli stepped out of the tent into the crisp morning air. Things were as busy as they had been when he first retired into the tent, the uninjured dwarves rushing to and fro to see to the wounded and the dead, and he suspected things were much the same in the camps of elves and men. The guard at the tent door had changed overnight, yet this one was just as respectful, quickly bowing to him and giving directions when he asked where he might find the king.

Thorin. He needed to find Thorin, and more importantly he needed to find Bilbo, and if he wasn't terribly mistaken they could both be found at once. He doubted Bilbo would have let Thorin out of his sight with the way he'd fussed over Thorin when he'd been brought to the camp, so the king's tent was a safe bet indeed for the hobbit. He needed Bilbo on his side if he was to succeed without a fight, as he rather suspected Thorin would have agreed to just about anything to appease his little burglar after his foolishness. Even if that anything was to see his nephews bound not only to each other but a she-elf as well.

Snow crunched under his feet as he hurried through the camp, falling in thick, leisurely flakes to cover the trampled ground, and for all that he knew it would soon be turned into dirty slush unless countless rushing feet, for a brief moment everything seemed bright and new and full of possibilities, like a shapeless jewel waiting for a careful hand to carve out its facets and make it shine. Fíli paused for a moment, drawing in a deep breath of the cold air, and for all that he was still weary and aching he felt surprisingly awake.

He thought of a bonding braid in Tauriel's long hair, one matching the design he'd long since imagined in his own hair and Kíli's, thought of watching two archers at the shooting range and two knowing smirks whenever he thought to hold some secret and two people standing by his side as he stepped forward to claim his crown in time. It should have been an unpleasant thought and a crowded one, he should have shuddered as he imagined a bed large enough to hold three instead of two, yet all through his imaginings he saw the smile Kíli seemed to have just for Tauriel and that smile made everything fit. For now, that would be enough.

If anything else was to come, well, they would welcome it together, then.


End file.
